Canon Shots
by AlaskaMarina
Summary: Just brief little 'deleted scenes' of Klaine from canon.
1. Blaine Says Goodbye 4-18

** I originally wrote these for fun and then posted them on my Tumblr. But I have no followers (and by 'no followers' I mean 2) so nobody sees them. So here. Enjoy.**

** (And *cough* follow me *cough* I follow back. Link on my profile. *****cough cough* **who said that?)

**More to come whenever inspiration strikes. :) **

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**Set during 4-18 where all the kids are hiding in the choir room after the gunshots. The spoiler about the 'video phone messages' were kind of vague but there was enough to know that Blaine _wouldn't _be saying anything to Kurt. I found that entirely unacceptable. So this happened...**

Blaine finished up the message to his parents, brushing away the tears threatening to spill over. He was just about to close the phone when he stopped. Should he? He knew, deep down, he shouldn't, but he also knew he had to. He couldn't _not_ do it.

He turned back to the phone, staring into the tiny dark hole that was the camera. Like staring down the barrel of a gun.

Blaine swallowed, and squeezed his eyes shut for the breifest moment, bracing himself.

"Kurt," he whispered to the little phone in his hand, "Baby-I…" His throat suddenly felt very dry, but he had to get this out, "I love you. But you already know that. I, just, I want you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for second. Not while we were apart, not after we broke up, not even now. And I don't regret one second of the time I spent with you. Just…_god_, Kurt," he paused and wiped his eyes again. "Ever since you came into my life, it's like… everything just changed for the better. I'm so happy to have been able to love you. And I just, I want you to remember that, okay? If I don't… If I don't make it out of this, I just want you to remember. Blaine Anderson loved you until his dying day."


	2. I Know Your Plans Don't Include Me 4-14

**Warnings for angst and sort-of smut**

Kurt let out a wordless cry and collapsed against Blaine, shuddering and breathing out a soft moan as he rode out his orgasm. Kurt buried his face in the crook of Blaine's shoulder for a brief moment as they both clutched at each other, gasping for air. As Kurt came down from his high, a sinking feeling crept back up into his stomach from the corner of the room where he'd flung it carelessly in his mad haste to be close to the man panting beneath him. It wasn't regret, exactly, not about what they'd just done anyway. No, it was more of a… wistfulness. A sort of bitterness about their situation in general. Kurt wasn't sorry about doing what he'd just done with Blaine. He could never be. He just wished for the millionth time that things could have been different. He wished they'd never had that stupid fight. That Blaine had never strayed. That he'd never had to move to New York. Like time could have just frozen, preserving them and their young, untarnished love in it's blissful embrace. Like everything that had happened since, well since September, really, had all been nothing but just a horrible, horrible dream.

As he pressed his face against Blaine's neck, breathing him in, he wished so badly, that this, right here, could have been like before. The countless other times he and Blaine had given in to their mutual and desperate need to be close to the person they loved. Closer than they'd ever been with anyone else. He wished that they were curled up in Blaine's room right now, with Sting playing softly in the background, and the two of them feeling warm and safe and loved in the other's arms. Instead of here, in some random, fancy, hotel room, with a half a dozen other couples fornicating just down the hall, and an unprecedented disaster of a wedding taking place downstairs.

He wished that Blaine could nibble on the spot below Kurt's ear, like he used to, whispering "I love you" over and over as he stroked his hands lovingly up and down Kurt's sweaty back. He wished they could curl up for hours, like they once had, still covered in sweat, with each other's come drying on their bodies, every one of their senses just drinking in everything about the other man. He wished he could lay down on top of Blaine, like he always did after sex, and press weak, open-mouthed kisses to his hot skin as the little hairs on his heaving chest tickled his nose and he felt Blaine's heart hammering against his cheek. Instead of rolling off and getting dressed and acting like what had just happened was no big deal, like he was about to do.

And so, Kurt pretended, for just a moment, that they were like they used to be. That none of that horrible shit had ever happened. And, for just that one small moment, Kurt was absolutely content. He was content in a way he hadn't felt since the break-up. He felt complete, and safe, and calm, and happy. Just lying here. With Blaine. Breathing in synch. In and out.

And then the moment ended. And reality settled in. And he remembered all the shit that had gone down in the past months that had torn him and Blaine apart. Far too much shit to be ignored. Too much to move past. Too much to forget. And he shifted and pulled out and pulled away from Blaine. From the love of his life. From his tarnished, beaten, broken, perfectly imperfect everything.

And as he felt the cold air strike his body, he died just a little bit more inside.


	3. Anti-Prom 3-19

**I always wonder how Kurt and Blaine feel about that awkward period of like 6 months when they first met when Kurt liked Blaine but Blaine still hadn't gotten his oblivious ass with the program. A situation which got even more awkward after Blaine _knew_ that Kurt liked him but then totally friendzoned him. I imagine he now feels pretty stupid when he thinks back on all those wasted days he could have been with Kurt and wasn't. I know I would. **

**Anyway, have this. Let's just assume everyone else in the room is too busy with their own stuff to pay attention to them, yeah?**

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The anti-prom was not going well. What was originally supposed to be a group of close friends having a fantastic night-in away from all the stress, formality and judgment prevalent at their Senior Prom had degenerated into an incredibly dull and, frankly, pitiful collection of sub-groups moping around a stuffy hotel room. Rachel was in the bathroom trying on her prom-dress in a desperate attempt to feel less pathetic about the whole situation. Puck was in a battle to the death with Becky Jackson as they raided the mini-bar and Kurt and Blaine were propped up on the room's only bed, watching re-runs of _Tabatha Takes Over_ on the flat-screen. Well, Blaine was watching it. Kurt was watching Blaine.

"Oh! This is a repeat," Blaine said happily, "It's the one with the passive-aggressive lesbian and the doggy-care." He glanced back to check whether Kurt approved of his choice.

"I wish Tabatha would take over this anti-prom," Kurt lamented, "Gosh this sucks."

"Yeah, well," Blaine shrugged. It did suck. But what could they do?

"If you wanted to go to the prom, I would have gone with you," Kurt said suddenly. Blaine turned off the TV. "I am not going to give into Brittany's insane ban on hair-gel," he exclaimed, flopping down on his back. He tilted his head back to look at Kurt, "Freedom to use hair-care products? It's in the Bill of Rights." In all honestly, Blaine didn't really care where they were, so long as he got to spend the evening with Kurt.

Kurt smiled at him, "Didn't the founding fathers all wear wigs?"

Blaine propped himself up on one elbow, "You haven't seen me without an enormous amount of hair-gel in my hair," he confided, "It's, it's really bad."

"Actually, I have."

"Wait, what?"

"Last year. At that New Directions party. When you got so drunk out of your mind you made-out with Rachel and then had to sleep over."

"Oh, man," Blaine closed his eyes and hung his head in embarrassment, "I can't believe it. I hardly remember anything about that night."

"I think your curls are really hot, actually."

Blaine looked back at Kurt and found him blushing. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I do remember one thing about that night."

"Kissing Rachel Berry and questioning your sexuality?"

Blaine winced, "Okay, two things."

"The morning-after, hangover?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. He reached over and gently squeezed Kurt's knee. "I remember how good you looked that night," he said earnestly. Kurt raised his eyebrows, surprised by this turn in the conversation, though not unpleasantly so. "You were wearing those _really_ tight, red pants, with safety pins all up the sides," Blaine continued, "I mean, where do even find this stuff, Kurt?"

"I make a lot of it myself," Kurt paused, biting his lip. He'd designed those pants specifically for that party, for one specific reason, for one specific _person_, "…I didn't realize you were paying that much attention to me back then."

Blaine frowned, "Of course I was." He shifted, sitting up, so he could look Kurt in the eye. He took his hand and Kurt's heart sped up like it always did whenever they touched. "Kurt," he began "I- I know you think that I didn't notice you at all, before. Or that I just thought of you in a strictly… platonic sort of way." Kurt looked away, but Blaine brought a hand up and tilted his face back toward him, "But I want to you to know that that's not true, Kurt. I noticed you every single day. I liked everything about you." Blaine smiled fondly as he spoke of the gorgeous man before him, "The way you looked, the way you talked, the way you _walked_," Blaine saw Kurt blush, "the way your smile lit up the whole room whenever you got really excited about something. I still love all those things… I was just too oblivious back then to realize what it all _meant_."

He squeezed Kurt's hand and Kurt squeezed back as a soft smile crept onto the pale boy's lips. After a moment, Kurt answered quietly but sincerely, "I'm glad you finally figured it out."

Blaine took Kurt's face in his hands, running his thumb along the dimples that had appeared on his cheeks. "Oh, baby," he breathed, before locking their lips, "You have _no idea_."


End file.
